


Lost in Translation

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Difference, Alien Culture, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian goes to thank Garak for his help in the matter of Tahna Los, and gets a lot more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Takes place a couple of days after the S1 episode "Past Prologue". 2) Inspired by a comment by airandangels, who suggested (as a response to Garak and Bashir's conversation in "Past Prologue"): "Cardassian is a rich and allusive language, the subtleties of which the universal translator cannot always convey in a timely fashion. The Terran Standard phrase ‘enjoyable company’ could refer to anything from a cup of tea and a pleasant chat to the most vigorous sodomy, or of course, vigorous sodomy followed by a cup of tea and a pleasant chat."

The Promenade was relatively deserted this late afternoon: Julian Bashir hadn't been on Deep Space Nine long, only a little over a week and a half, but he was already beginning to learn the rhythms of life aboard it. As he walked down the station's commercial hub he noted that even the crowd at Quark's was less dense than usual, although a bullet-headed alien in heavily padded clothing who seemed to make his home there was sitting at the bar in his habitual seat, listening to Quark, who was leaning close to him with one elbow on the bar and speaking intently. The Ferengi's eyes, scanning the hallway outside his establishment while he talked, caught sight of Julian and lingered on him; Julian flashed a friendly smile in response, in spite of the stern warning Odo had issued to all incoming Starfleet personnel that Quark wasn't to be trusted as far as one could throw him. After all, Julian would be living here for the foreseeable future: it just made sense to be on as good terms as possible with everybody, no matter how shady their occupation.  
  
Which explained where he was going right now, actually. His duty shift in the Infirmary had just ended and he had no plans for the evening — and he had a debt of gratitude to discharge. He hadn't spoken to the tailor Garak since the nasty business with Tahna Los had been concluded two days ago, but nobody else seemed inclined to thank him for his help in bringing the terrorist to justice and Julian felt that he deserved a drink at Quark's, at the very least.   
  
So here he was, heading toward Garak's clothing shop with his heart rate higher than normal and a ball of tight anticipation in his throat. He hadn't had much interaction with the Cardassian thus far, but what little he'd gotten had taught him that Garak was brilliant, highly adept and undoubtedly very dangerous. Common sense dictated that he stay as far away from the man as possible now that their necessary association had run its course, but… well, if Julian had been utterly wedded to common sense and safety he wouldn't be out here on the frontier in the first place. He'd come seeking adventure, and every instinct told him that Garak was a nexus for all sorts of exciting possibilities.  
  
Hell, it had all been there in the first two minutes of their acquaintance: the fearless approach, the double meaning behind every gliding word, the weight of Garak's hands unexpectedly laid on his shoulders, almost making him jump out of his skin. The memory of the thrill of it all still set up eager shivers in his core. He had to see where it would lead — assuming that Garak was interested in having anything to do with him. He desperately hoped that he would, and part of tonight's conversation over drinks would include his efforts to convince Garak that he was still a valuable contact to have in Starfleet. He'd considered various ways to do it subtly, but considering that Garak was clearly a master at layering conversations with different meanings he'd decided, almost certainly, to not try to beat him at his own game. Simple honesty, that was the best way to go:  _I was thinking we could meet for lunch, say, once a week — just to keep in touch, you understand…_  
  
Garak's Clothiers was only four units down from Quark's, and to Julian's relief — and excitement — it was clearly open for business. He found himself hesitating, gazing at the light shining through the closed doors as a voice uncommonly like his father's spoke sternly in his mind's ear:  _Just what do you think you're doing, walking into the den of a snake?_  But it only lasted a fraction of a second before he squared his shoulders and continued his approach with a determined stride, responding firmly:  _Nothing ventured, nothing gained — and fortune favours the bold! Besides, I'll certainly be seeing him around the station — am I supposed to spend the rest of my time here avoiding him?_  
  
The voice of his father did not respond. The doors opened before him and he entered the shop — only to find it empty.   
  
Surprised, he stopped and looked around. The last time he'd been here the place had been in shadow, but now in good light he was fully impressed by the riot of colour and style on display. The whisper of the doors closing behind him sent a tiny chill up his spine, and prompted another murmur of apprehension: _Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly!_  
  
He didn't have time to consciously respond to it, because at that moment Garak breezed back into the front of the shop from an arch at the rear, wearing an expression of polite professional interest. "Good evening —" Then he saw who it was, and the mask of a merchant broke open in a wider smile of apparently genuine delight. "Why, Doctor! What a pleasant surprise!"  
  
Gazing into his merry blue eyes, Julian found himself momentarily tongue-tied all over again and wondered what it was about this man that tied him up in such knots. "Ah. Hello."  
  
Garak approached, that smile never fading. "Come in, come in!" Reaching Julian's side, he placed a hand behind his elbow and guided him toward the shop's central table, which was neatly arranged with folds and drapes of fabric on display. "I'd hoped you'd choose to patronize my humble establishment. Tell me, what can I do for you today? A new shirt, perhaps?" He stepped away, removing his hand from Julian's arm, and picked up a swath of white fabric that shimmered with opalescence. "I've just received this spider silk from K'r'r'auss III — beautiful, well-wearing, and it would certainly complement your complexion."  
  
The Cardassian's touch had sent a warm flush through Julian's entire body, and the loss of it a shock of complementary cold. He finally found his voice again: "Um — some other time, perhaps. I'd actually come by to invite you to join me for a drink."  
  
Garak, who'd draped the fabric over one arm to display it, paused and looked at him more intently. "Did you?"  
  
"Yes." He smiled in a way that he hoped hid his nervousness. "I mean — I owe you that much at least, wouldn't you say? After all, you gave me the opportunity to take part in bringing down Tahna Los, and I think you deserve something for helping us to unravel his plot."   
  
Garak's smile lingered, but it had lost some of its brilliance, and his eyes… his eyes were as keen as scalpels. Julian had to fight an impulse to squirm under their regard. "Do you," he said, and there was something behind his words that Julian couldn't quite discern — but whatever it was, it made every hair on his body prickle erect.  
  
"I do," he said firmly, meeting Garak's gaze squarely.   
  
For a long moment they looked at each other: Julian standing straight and trying not to blink, Garak with the fabric sample still displayed on his outstretched arm. Then the quality of Garak's smile changed again. It grew sly, and secretive — and it communicated a heat that made Julian suddenly want to turn and bolt out of the shop at full speed.   
  
"Well then," the spy said softly, "it would be most ungracious of me to refuse your kind and generous offer, wouldn't it?"  
  
Julian found himself swallowing the lump of apprehension in his throat, and wondered if his father's voice hadn't been right after all. Things seemed to be speeding in the direction of — he knew not what, but the thrill of it was undeniable. Before he could speak again Garak laid the silk back on the table, then walked past him to the doors of the shop and tapped a code into the panel beside them — locking them, Julian realized, an instant before Garak spoke:  
  
"Computer: lights off."   
  
The shop was plunged into darkness identical to its atmosphere when Julian had last visited it. Then Garak was coming toward him again, and Julian opened his mouth to ask him just what the hell he thought he was playing at, only to have Garak continue: "And you certainly deserve  _my_  gratitude, dear Doctor, for being such a…  _willing_  accomplice."  
  
"Ah." Julian's nervousness was increasing by leaps and bounds. It took all his willpower not to start backing up as Garak drew near. "It was nothing, really, all in a day's work, I was happy to —"  
  
He knew he was babbling and hated himself for it, but at least he didn't do it for long, because Garak came right up to him, took his waist in both hands, and silenced him with a kiss which, while light and rather brief, was downright shocking in its unexpected and stunning intensity.


	2. Chapter 2

When it was over Julian just stared at Garak with his mouth open, completely bereft of words. He'd never been kissed by another man in his life, he hadn't seen this one coming, and he certainly hadn't expected to  _like_  it.   
  
"Ah," was all he could finally muster in response to the spy's sleek and self-satisfied smirk. "That, ah… I… you… I mean, if —"  
  
Garak put him out of his misery by kissing him again: a little more deeply this time, the cunning stroke of a tonguetip against his lower lip scattering whatever was left of coherent thought. He closed his eyes tightly in a desperate and futile effort to aid concentration, as Garak turned him and pushed him gently backward until the backs of his thighs met the curved edge of the central table, which his vaguely flailing hands promptly locked onto as if to save himself from falling. And still Garak was kissing him, and if he'd ever in his wildest dreams imagined enjoying being kissed by a man he'd have emphatically denied that he'd like it this much, his lips parting and his tongue slipping out almost furtively to engage. This time when their mouths parted he was breathing heavily, and knew that he probably looked dazed as he looked down into Garak's eyes, but he couldn't seem to pull himself together enough to muster whatever was left of his dignity.  
  
Garak's expression was, if anything, even more smug — and the gleaming line of teeth he was displaying looked both menacing and sharp, an impression confirmed when he leaned in again and applied them to the line of Julian's jaw. Julian's breath caught in his throat and his eyes drifted closed again as sensation overwhelmed him: the danger of a completely illicit embrace, the implicit violence in each stinging nip, the soothing stroke of that talented tongue over the bitten places, the way Garak's hands were sliding down over the small of his back to cup and squeeze his buttocks (oh,  _yes_ ), all culminating in the increasingly eager throbbing of his cock, which was definitely sitting up and taking notice. His mouth was open and he knew he should be saying something, that in fact he should be telling Garak to get the hell off of him, but all that emerged were little gasps and, when Garak bent his head to bite the sternocleidomastoid muscle through his uniform collar, a startling moan of acquiescence.   
  
Garak chuckled, almost a growl — a sound that sent another shock of white-hot arousal up Julian's erection — and angled his head to murmur into Julian's ear: "I  _knew_  it — I knew you'd be exactly like this." Another bite, prompting a whimper he couldn't believe he'd just uttered. "So responsive…" His hands slid around Julian's hips, making him tremble with anticipation and sudden fear. "So  _perfect_. Pants down, there's a good boy —"  
  
There was no way Garak should have been able to get the front of his trousers open that fast, but he had, and before Julian could blink they'd been slid down to mid-thigh in one smooth pull. He barely had time to emit a choked and horrified yelp —  _"Garak!"_  — before he was being kissed again, a deep sly hot kiss that trapped his protests in his throat, barely permitting a more plaintive whimper to escape when the Cardassian's cool firm hands went back to work on his flesh, one grasping his ass again through his briefs while the other pressed and rubbed his achingly stiff prick.   
  
" _Very_  good boy," Garak purred against his neck, squeezing his cock in a way that made him close his eyes with a shiver of heavenly bliss. "And so  _eager_. How gratifying!" His thumbs hooked the waistband of the briefs and started peeling them downward. "Now let me see…."  
  
"We can't." His breath was coming in undignified little gasps but he couldn't seem to control it, any more than he could convince his hands to release their death-grip on the edge of the table. "We — Garak, we shouldn't —"  
  
Garak paused, leaning back a little to look Julian in the eyes with a tilted head and an air of sincere curiosity. "Can't, or shouldn't? They're two very different things."  
  
"Ah…" His brain seemed to have stalled. "Both?"  
  
"Oh, my dear Doctor." His smile was indulgent. "The correct answer is 'neither,' as I think you well know." He kissed him again, slow and exploratory this time, which almost distracted Julian from the little shock as his penis was bared to the chilly air. Another purr as Garak slid one slow savouring hand down his naked erection and between his legs, fondling his balls. "Ahhh, there — you like that, don't you?"  
  
"Uh." The speed and the shamelessness of it all was outrageous and inconceivable and mind-bendingly hot. "I…" Another little squeeze put him on high alert: Cardassian males kept their genitalia in a sheath, so Garak probably didn't know — "Careful with those, they're delicate!"  
  
"Shhh," Garak murmured in a honeyed voice, caressing more gently. "Relax, my pretty child. I won't hurt you." Cradling, rubbing, making him squirm and open his thighs as far as the constricting briefs would permit and bite back another whimper. "Yes, just like that…" Back up to his cock, lightly stroking, then firmly gripping. "So smooth and sweet… I wonder, does it taste as good as it feels?"  
  
And then Garak was sinking down onto one knee, and Julian stared at him in disbelief until the first sweet wave of sensation engulfed him and his head tipped back helplessly. For an unknown space of time everything was licking and sucking and panting and moaning and exquisite liquid heat; the occasional sharp edge of Garak's teeth only drove him higher, although as a rule he didn't go in for that sort of thing during fellatio. One of his hands finally left the security of the table's edge to find the top of Garak's head, the temple ridge hard against his palm, the black hair as smooth and cool as silk around his fingers. He tried to quicken Garak's pace, grasping and pulling, but it gained him no respite from the thorough, unhurried stimulation of that immensely talented mouth, so intense it was almost torture.   
  
He didn't last long, as aroused as he already was — but when his hips began to buck Garak pulled away sharply and completely, leaving him dazed and dismayed. His eyes flew open, staring at the Cardassian in confusion as he rose to his feet. He opened his mouth to protest but didn't get a single word out — he didn't have time, Garak was kissing him hungrily, wrapping one arm around his waist and gripping his naked ass with the other hand, pulling him close. He could taste himself in the spy's mouth, the salty tang of pre-ejaculate mixed with a hint of musk, and for the first time he felt Garak's erection pressed against his own through the thick clothing that separated them.  
  
When Garak drew back just enough to speak his eyes were gleaming in the dimness. "Beautiful boy," he growled with a slow hot smile, and there was a change in him that sent a surge of adrenaline through Julian's entire body, a searing chill of not-quite-fear that only intensified when he felt blunt grey fingertips insinuate themselves into his gluteal cleft, pulling him open for another shock of cool air, this time on his startled anus.   
  
He tensed, his fingers tightening where they'd come to rest on Garak's middle back as he squirmed more emphatically. "Wait! I mean, I've never —"  
  
Garak's gaze held his, refusing to let him go. "But you want to… don't you?"  
  
"I —" Torn between conflicting impulses — what he  _should_  want, and what he was beginning to suspect he  _did_  want — he had to fight to sort words out of the chaos. "I don't — it will hurt, won't it?"  
  
His expression of stern command took on a gentler aspect, and he kissed Julian again, this time almost tenderly. "I said that I wouldn't hurt you, and I meant it." He stroked Julian's buttock soothingly, caressing the smooth caramel skin. "Trust me, Doctor — I've done this before. I know what I'm doing." He removed his hand, murmuring persuasively as Julian stiffened: "Shhh, lovely boy… just let me show you…"  
  
Julian couldn't see what the hand behind his back was doing, but a second later he felt it return to rub over the curve of his ass again — this time sheathed in something slick and even cooler than the Cardassian's skin: a piece of fabric from the table, perhaps the very white silk Garak had shown him when he'd first walked into the shop. It felt marvellously sensuous, and his erection, which had faltered slightly with his uncertainty, surged back to full strength. He concentrated on controlling his breathing and on opening his hand between Garak's shoulder blades, willing the tension to drain from his muscles before he consciously realized that he was preparing himself for something he'd never have considered even ten minutes previous. A dim and distant part of his mind wondered if it would always be like this with Garak, if the normal rules of conduct would consistently bend in his presence; the more immediate current of his thoughts, driven by the backbeat of his pulse, was what ended up being expressed when he leaned forward to capture the spy's mouth in a hungry kiss, his other hand finally letting go of the table and running up under that fall of midnight hair, absorbing the alien texture of the scutes that patterned the back of the reptilian humanoid's neck.   
  
The rumble in Garak's throat as he responded with equal fervour was fully as arousing as the slippery textile on his skin: fondling him and exciting him, slipping between his buttocks with a chill that made him tremble, then moan as one finger became prominent, a firm fingertip sheathed in silk pressing at his virgin anus —   
  
— and slipping inside.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Ah!"_  Julian's hips bucked upward in spite of his decision to be as relaxed as possible, but Garak's arm locked tightly around his waist prevented him from going very far. The invasive sensation — stretching, pressure, nerve endings awakening to previously unknown stimulation — made him feel like he was crawling out of his own skin and at the same time sent little pulses of throbbing heat racing through his balls and all the way up to the head of his cock; he knew he was probably leaking more pre-ejaculate onto the front of Garak's tunic, but somehow he doubted the Cardassian was worried about the state of his own clothing at this particular moment. No, he was too busy murmuring in Julian's ear,  _There_  and  _Let me in_  and _Be good my darling boy_ , while his middle finger pushed in and pulled out of Julian's anus, probing deeper and deeper against the resistance of the sphincter.   
  
Julian squeezed his eyes shut and clung to the sturdy figure pinning him against the table, concentrating on levelling out his shaky breathing under the assault of such delicious friction: it certainly helped that the idea of being finger-fucked — and more specifically, of  _Garak_  finger-fucking him — with a piece of slick shimmering silk was turning out to be incredibly stimulating, transmuting the almost-pain into a deep dark heat that ignited everything between his navel and his knees. When his rectal muscles suddenly relaxed of their own accord the last trace of discomfort vanished and Garak's finger slid into him to the hilt, running over his prostate in the process and eliciting a shock of raw pleasure that made his eyes fly open and drove a cry of amazement from his throat.   
  
Garak paused, and in his highly aroused state it took Julian a moment to understand why: Cardassian males, according to autopsies conducted on corpses recovered after major battles, didn't possess an equivalent structure. He managed to put together a coherent sentence: "There's a gland there, on the anterior face of the rectum, that's very —  _oh God_ , yes!" — as Garak slid the finger almost completely out and fully in again, replicating its original path with remarkable precision — "very sensitive! It's — ah! — it's actually called the prostate, from the Greek  _prostates_ , meaning to —"  
  
A bite on the side of his neck, almost hard enough to break the skin, married pain and pleasure in a way that rendered speech temporarily moot. He took the hint and shut up — and besides, Garak was already giving him a second finger to think about, the brief reflexive spasm of his anus making him wince, then moan as it surrendered again and let him be filled even more. Of course he'd known academically that anal penetration could be very pleasurable for Human males, and that in fact some preferred it above all other forms of stimulation, but the transition from the theoretical to the personal was turning out to be breathtaking.   
  
A stray thought surfaced through the seething ocean of sensation —  _What brought this on in the first place?_  — but he didn't try to hold onto it when a considerably rougher thrust and twist of Garak's fingers effectively distracted him. Evidently the most recent bite had primed him to accept more of a pleasure/pain mix, because in spite of the discomfort interlaced with the heat he found himself panting in Garak's ear with an upward inflection that was definitely  _not_  a request to cease and desist.   
  
"Good?" Garak purred with an audible smirk, pushing and twisting again, stroking his prostate hard, and Julian barely had the presence of mind to feel a dim sense of shame as he tightened his ass and ground his pelvis forward, rubbing his stiff aching prick against the textured material covering the Cardassian's lower abdomen. This time his whimper was urgently pleading: he was  _so close_ , he wanted to come so badly, and later he might ask himself why he didn't just try to take control the way he did in every other sexual situation he'd encountered — but now, oh now he was being restrained and shamelessly played with, and he was letting himself be intoxicated and swept away. Had there ever been a single instant in this relationship when Garak hadn't been in complete command of what happened between them? Hard on the heels of that thought a traitorous whisper hissed in the back of Julian's mind:  _Is that why you_ really  _came here? Because you liked having an older man dominate you that much?_  
  
"Oh God…" He heard the tremor in his own breathless voice and couldn't seem to modulate that either.   
  
"Shhhh…" The tone was soothing, a thrilling contrast to the forceful mastery of the fingers stroking deep and opening inside him, making him yield and throb. "You're doing so well, my darling! Just a little more…"  
  
"Are you —" A pointless question: he knew exactly what Garak intended to do — and he trembled on the brink of it, eager and nearly desperate, even though a part of him was still insisting that this wasn't  _him_ , that he didn't… that he'd never…  
  
But he did, and the suspense was rapidly becoming unbearable. He closed his eyes again, and shivered, and whispered a low rush of words: "Now. I — I want it  _now_. Please…?"  
  
Another pause, as Garak drew back just enough to study his face. Julian opened his eyes to return the Cardassian's gaze, although his arms were still wrapped around Garak's body and he knew his own expression was helplessly beseeching rather than coolly evaluating. His bated breath escaped in a shaky exhalation when Garak removed both fingers from his ass, deftly leaving the silk behind, and took light hold of his shoulders to turn him around to face the table, then moved in close again to whisper in his ear:  
  
"Bend over, Doctor." The glide of his hands down to Julian's waist sent hot little shivers through his entire body.  
  
"I —"  
  
"Bend.  _Over._ " Softly, but with such an aura of authority that Julian bent at the hips and braced himself on his elbows, doing his best not to slide on the swaths of cloth that covered the flat surface.   
  
"No," Garak's left hand closed on the nape of his neck and applied firm pressure, " _all_  the way over," and Julian obeyed, trying to find a position that didn't feel utterly awkward. He ended up with his ass higher than his shoulders, his elbows bent and one hand on either side of his head, fitfully gripping at fabric samples while blood-warm silk still filled his rectum and trailed down over his perineum to brush against his balls.  
  
"Beautiful," Garak praised, taking a half-step back and trailing that strong hand slowly down his spine in a way that made him feel even more naked and displayed, even though he was really only unclothed from his waist to his upper thighs. "Absolutely  _perfect._ " Stroking the curves of his ass now, making him writhe before he could stop himself — which earned him a sharp little smack on his right buttock and an amused rebuke: "What did I tell you about being good?"  
  
Fifteen minutes earlier being spanked would have outraged him. Now it only made the length of his exposed cock burn harder and hotter. "Please," he panted, but the assertive core of him was rising again and the word was both demanding and submissive: "Please, Garak…  _please_ …"  
  
That cool hand had returned to caressing the buttock it had slapped, and now Garak slid it down and inward under the silk, cupping the curve of the gluteal muscle and rubbing the Human's perineum with his thumb. "'Please' what, my dear?"  
  
"Please." He felt himself blushing furiously and had to close his eyes again. "Please… I want…"  
  
"Tell me." A voice so velvety shouldn't have conveyed that much dominance, its commanding inflection reinforced by a thrilling little squeeze of Julian's balls. "'I want'…?"  
  
It was hard to swallow his pride and shrug free of a lifetime's sexual identity — but the pulse of lust filling his entire pelvis was a compelling incentive. "I want you —" He couldn't say  _to make love to me_ , it sounded like something from a bad romance holonovel! "I want you inside me…" Which wasn't much better, but when Garak's other hand reached round under his right hip and took hold of his cock again he knew that it had been well received.  
  
"Well," that dark caressing voice mused, "when you ask so nicely, how could I possibly refuse?"   
  
It took all of Julian's self-control not to wriggle as Garak stroked his cock, paying special attention to the head, and pulled the finger-length of silk out of his anus without haste, leaving him empty and amazed at his own yearning to be filled again. But not for long: he could hear the tiny click of fasteners being opened, then the brush of cloth against his bare skin as Garak's tunic fell open. More unfastening, and then Garak stepped forward and Julian couldn't help but jerk when a hard length both warm and wet settled along the cleft of his ass: of course, Cardassian males had lubricant-producing glands along their cocks — and triple sets of transverse ridges, which was going to make for one hell of a ride.  
  
Such thoughts, however, were distant compared to the all-consuming sweet fire burning between Garak's tightly gripping fingers. Eyes still closed, Julian bit back a moan, then whimpered when Garak's left hand sank into his hair, stroking through it from crown to nape.   
  
"Hush, my darling child," Garak murmured, bending to press a brief biting kiss to his right shoulder, "and don't be afraid. Just relax, and let me do all the work."  
  
 _As if I have a choice!_  Julian thought, but couldn't seem to find enough breath to form the words while Garak straightened again, transferred both hands to his uplifted buttocks, and pried them open with his thumbs. New pressure on his anus made him tense and shiver all over again, then cry out as the ring of muscle yielded and popped open, admitting something considerably larger than Garak's fingers —  _Another man's cock! Dear God!_  — and letting it slide smoothly in, driving whatever breath was left in Julian's lungs out in a shuddering gasp that became a high-pitched wail when the head ran over his prostate and set off a small supernova behind his tightly clenched eyelids. 


	4. Chapter 4

"I said  _hush_ ," Garak admonished him again, sounded remarkably composed for a man buried sheath-deep in Julian's ass; his hands shifted again, settling on Julian's hips with a controlling grip that was both disquieting and reassuring. Julian tried his best to obey as that alien erection slid slowly out again, the reverse suction and the ridges combining to produce such overwhelming sensory input that he couldn't stop tiny high-pitched whining noises from bursting free… but Garak wasn't scolding him this time so he supposed the whimpering was acceptable, which was fortunate because it was rather beyond his control. And slowly in, glorious swelling pressure and pure heat over his prostate; this time he did manage to bite back most of the cry that rose from the core of him and stuttered brokenly into the dark air of the shop, and he restrained it again on the next stroke, and on the next. Considering the circumstances he was feeling pretty damned pleased with himself — well, the tiny fraction of his mind that wasn't utterly consumed with lust was, anyway — when Garak took harder hold of his hips and shifted his stance ever so slightly, and Julian barely had time to register the change before the Cardassian moved into high gear.  
  
For a couple of seconds Julian flat-out couldn't breathe: he was being pounded into the table, and the exponential increase in intensity was beyond anything it would ever have occurred to him to imagine. When his diaphragm unlocked he spent his first full breath in a near-scream, which earned him a sharp growl and a hand clamped firmly over his open mouth. It took him another couple of seconds to realize that he didn't mind this in the least: in fact, it gave him the liberty to yell even louder without alerting half the Promenade to what was going on inside Garak's Clothiers. He let himself go, uttering muffled screams against the palm of Garak's hand and writhing on his impromptu bed of fabric samples, barely hearing the increasingly loud rumbles Garak was emitting as the pace of his thrusts kicked up another notch — because he was divinely and obscenely  _full_ , drowning in waves of heat whose periodicity was rapidly increasing, and he just wanted to lie there and get fucked forever.  
  
 _Forever_ , as it turned out, was something less than fifteen seconds. When the cycles peaked Julian was dimly aware, through the sweet pulses of release as spurt after spurt of his spunk splattered the side of the display table, that he was probably vocalizing loudly enough to be heard in Quark's Bar in spite of Garak's restraining hand, but he found it almost impossible to care. He'd barely started to come down when he felt Garak stiffen, still thrusting as pulses of liquid filled Julian's rectum, prompting another long moan and a final shudder of fading ecstasy that left Julian warmly glowing, feeling hot and dirty and delirious. It was a sensation only enhanced when Garak pulled out a little, permitting a trickle of Cardassian semen to trail down his perineum toward his balls; he stretched and purred, eyes blissfully closed, and grinned against the palm of Garak's hand.  
  
For a few seconds they rested, still interlocked, catching their breath; then Garak withdrew completely, creating a shock of emptiness that left Julian feeling strangely bereft, and released the Human to reach for another piece of fabric on the table. It turned out to be soft and absorbent when he used it to clean Julian up with a few gentle strokes; Julian was content to lie where he was, letting the table support his weight while Garak applied the cloth to himself, then set it back on the flat surface before swiftly refastening his own clothing. Julian was still grinning like a loon when Garak took hold of his shoulders again and got him vertical, then turned him around to lean against the table's edge — but his eyes were open now, and when he tried to meet Garak's gaze he found the tailor apparently fully focused on wiping his paramour's penis clean.  
  
When Garak moved to set the cloth aside again Julian shook his head and took hold of his briefs. "I can take it from here, thanks."  
  
At once Garak nodded, his eyes flickering to Julian's for an instant, opaque and cool. "As you wish, Doctor," he said, and after stooping to reach between Julian's opened thighs to give the side of the table a quick swipe he collected the crumpled piece of white spider silk from the floor and disappeared into the back of the shop, his booted feet making almost no sound on the carpet.   
  
Julian tucked himself back into his underwear and pulled up his pants, trying not to make too much of Garak's sudden distance as he put his uniform back in order. He also thanked God that he didn't have to go back to the Infirmary, because he was pretty sure he was wearing an  _I've just been fucked_  face  _par excellence_. When he was finished he leaned back against the table's edge again and rested his hands on it, fingers curling around it as he stared into the middle distance and tried to make sense of what had just occurred. The bare facts —  _Garak just fucked me, and my God, it was fantastic!_  — surely concealed more than just a rough physical encounter…  
  
… but there wasn't much time to consider such things: he was still pondering when Garak emerged seconds later, having evidently taken care of the soiled fabrics, and came over to lean against the table on Julian's right side in a similar posture. A sidelong glance at the Cardassian revealed a serene expression, and for several long moments there was silence between them that felt, to Julian, strangely comfortable.  
  
"Not that I'm complaining, you understand," he said at last, "but what exactly brought  _this_  on?"  
  
He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye, and turning his head he found Garak looking at him with what seemed to be mild surprise. "You  _did_  accept my invitation to experience some enjoyable company, didn't you?"  
  
"Well…" It was an unexpected response, and Julian wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "I suppose I did… but this wasn't quite what I had in mind."  
  
"Wasn't it?" Garak's tone was flatter, his eyes narrowing: evidently he was rethinking the terms of this conversation as well.  
  
"Frankly, no. That phrase brings to mind… I don't know, a cup of tea and a pleasant chat, not…"  
  
The Cardassian's eyes gleamed, his thin smile suddenly mischievous. "Vigorous sodomy?"  
  
Julian felt a hot flush rise on his cheekbones. "When you put it that way — no."  
  
Garak tipped his head back and chuffed soft laughter for a couple of seconds. "Oh, my dear Doctor… you're obviously unfamiliar with the Cardassian language. When I offered you 'a bit of enjoyable company now and then' and laid my hands on your shoulders, is that really all you thought I was implying?"  
  
"The phrase 'enjoyable company' is pretty innocuous, in Terran Standard." A horrible suspicion was beginning to dawn. "Why, what does it mean in Kardasi?"  
  
Now Garak's smile was almost kind. "I'd expound on the precise phraseology, but your universal translator would probably only simplify it all over again. Let's just say that it can mean anything from that nice cup of tea you mentioned to what's just transpired." His left hand settled on Julian's right thigh just above the knee, heavy and companionable, as he leaned a little closer, his voice falling to a more intimate register. "And really, I  _did_  touch your shoulders quite blatantly. If you weren't interested you should have said something at that moment."  
  
"But I didn't even know!"  
  
Garak's smile grew wicked. "Oh, but I think you did."  
  
Thinking back to the slow firm pressure of Garak's hands on his shoulders, the insinuating glide of the Cardassian's voice and the way his touch had lingered, Julian had to concede the point. "Is the gesture significant in Cardassian culture because the ridges on the neck are erogenous zones?"  
  
"Really, Doctor!" Garak looked almost wounded. "Won't you leave us at least some mysteries?"  
  
 _Oh, I've barely begun,_  Julian thought, hoping that his smile wasn't too eager. "You'll have to forgive me: I came here to learn new things, and you're my best chance at finding out anything about Cardassian physiology and culture."  
  
"I'd say I've just given you an entire free seminar," Garak quipped, then looked more grave. "But in all seriousness, Doctor, if I've violated some Terran cultural —"  
  
Julian leaned in to silence him with a quick kiss. "Oh, believe me, if I'd objected I would have let you know."  
  
The kiss seemed to surprise him: for an instant his gaze became positively piercing, before taking cover again behind a facade of mild friendliness. "I see. Well, that's good to know."  
  
"But next time," Julian added, reaching over to lay his right hand on Garak's left thigh, "we're going to do this on a bed."  
  
Garak nodded. "It's probably safer that way."  
  
Julian kissed him again, suspecting with a sinking heart that the distance he saw in Garak's face was all there really was to this. The response, though smouldering rather than full of outright flame, contained enough heat to reassure him on that score.  _So you like to play it close to the vest, do you, my Cardassian friend? Well, you'll find I'm not put off so easily!_  
  
"I'd still like to take you for that drink in Quark's," he said, giving Garak's knee a saucy squeeze before removing his hand and straightening. "God knows I could use one myself after all that exertion, and I'm not very fond of drinking alone. Join me?"  
  
Garak regarded him for a moment, and this time the curve of his lips managed to be amused, affectionate and enigmatic all at once. "Rest assured, dear Doctor, that wild targs couldn't keep me away. Perhaps, with a little dedication, we'll find some more… cultural misunderstandings we'd like to explore."  
  
"I'm looking forward to it," Julian nodded, and as they headed for the door side by side he decided that he was going to like it here on Deep Space Nine for many reasons, including a few that had nothing to do with his official duties as a Starfleet officer at the edge of the wild frontier.  
  
THE END


End file.
